The Hanged Man
by AngelicSynner
Summary: The Yin Yang inverted, colours changed, motives destroyed, minds deranged. What if your life took a turn for the better, you were titled something special, only to find your abilitys sprung from an accident . . .
1. Present

Here we go… my tribute to J.K. Rowling for releasing the 5th book. Its my attempt at a Harry Potter fic. Since I haven't read the 5th book becuz I'm a cheap bastard this is not going to follow the story line. There's also an author insert so if you don't like it I advise you to stop rite here. 

There, that gets rid of haters (if u still leave a flame concerning my character ur some kind of obnoxious sod that apparently can't read ^ ^) Everyone else, enjoy my fic, thx for being patient with my author scribble  and plz leave a review (constructive criticism is welcome) Thx !

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (sadly . . .  or else there'd be some massive character bashing ^ ^;) 

**

Chapter 1

            The wind was blowing hard that night. Gusts of rain swept in through the open window. A girl came rushing up the stairs to her room. With a firm thrust she shut the source of disruption. "Close that damned window!" a rather weary, worn voice commanded. "I did I did!" the girl shot back, slamming the door. To her it was just another night. Whether it was raining drops of hail and the full moon shone brightly sandwiched amongst stark gray clouds; it was just another night. 2 weeks later it would be no different. Maybe at her earlier stages in life she could have looked forward to her 15th birthday. No, not now though. Nothing around her could infect her with waves of joy. There had been too many things going on for her to even consider smiling again. Her mother had been diagnosed with arthritis, her older brother had disappeared, and both her sisters were expelled from school. To add to that only a month before a strong, great man had left his family for another shot at military life. The man this girl hated, hated and yet loved and missed so much, after all, he was her father. 

Leaving them he had also forced them into a new phase of poverty. "_Damn him." She thought, taking a pillow off her bead and throwing it at her desk. "_Damn him to hell for leaving us. It's not that I'll miss him, but he that he screwed everything up for us. Mom can't handle the four of us. Sean left without a trace, Mei and Xiao got back into drugs, and I won't be able to go back to school." _She continued, "_Not that I can't study, mind you, but without a job mum can't pay for private school education." _The girl, trying hard to force back her tears, walked over to her closet. Beside it there was a full-length mirror. She glanced into it, not in the least satisfied with the image it returned. A rather short, frail looking girl, with red-brown eyes and heavy shadows beneath them, cautiously peered back. Her long straight (but died) hazel brown hair fell over her hunched shoulders. This girl, this loveless, hopeless girl, was I. _

I grimaced and turned to my closet. Rummaging through a pile of stuff I came to an old, antique book. It was bound in leather and had black markings on the cover. These were presumably once letters, but father time had rendered them unrecognizable. Next I pulled out my incense burner and three charcoal gonesh sticks. Then came the tarot cards wrapped in a piece of purple velvet, and then the CD player. I turned on heavy punk rock music and then opened the book. Limply pointing my fingers at the three incense sticks I ran my hand over a page of the book. Keeping my eyes closed and my mind focused I muttered a quick word. Instantly they began to levitate slightly above the ground, then followed the path traced by my hand. I twisted it and brought them back down in a command like manner. The incense dropped into their correct places and lit then went out in order for the fragrance to spread properly. With another flick of my wrist the whole burner began to rise and hover in the middle of the room. A slight ray of light shone from it, illuminating the mat and I who sat on it. I began to unwrap my tarot cards and then shuffled them. Then I cut them into three stacks with my left hand. After that I placed six cards facedown in a circular pattern. With a solemn gaze I flipped the first one.

"The Tower." I told myself,  "This card represents a sudden catastrophic change, usually in a negative sense. Something's going to happen that will have a drastic affect on the future." Moving on to the next one I reminded myself of its meaning as well, "The Devil card stands for the evil in the world. Greed, Materialism, a desire for destruction. This...this is likely brought on by a change as represented by The Tower." And so I continued reciting what they meant, "The two of cups represents a partnership, usually a positive one, but unfortunately it's upside down. The seven of swords represents deception. Someone avoiding a direct confrontation and instead relying on deceit and the manipulation of others. This is likely caused by the said partnership, which involves the change. The Lovers card stands for a serious emotional decision in this case, rather than a romantic relationship as implied by its name. A big choice will have to be made. Probably one with few options. The sense created by the other cards also gives me the impression that the options that are available are not happy ones"

"The last card of the circle... The Hanged Man. This has a double meaning here. The Hanged Man often means waiting. Probably related to the said decision. But often in these cases, waiting is the worst thing that can be done. This card also stands for a sacrifice. No matter the outcome, there will be a great price. The aforementioned decision shall be waited on due to hesitation over the costs." I took a deep breath. A deep sense of foreboding came over me as I eyed the center card. With a quick, sweeping motion I flipped it over. "Oh for Mefisto's sake!" I complained. "I thought I'd taken this card out." I picked up the Death card and threw it into the closet. "Great, what a waste of time." I murmured. "I always get that bloody card, maybe I should burn it sometime. I'm content enough with usually getting the Fourteen Swords, but this was a pleasant if just as sad change." 

Solemnly I packed up my cards and placed them back. After that I grabbed the incense burner and anything else that could catch someone's eye and stashed them behind a large box. Then I turned off the music and left my room behind me. "San, time for bed!" my mother called again. "Yeah. I know." I responded. Of course I knew. You didn't need tarot cards to forestall that your bedtime was 11:30. I returned to my room showered and changed and amazingly tired. Determined not to give up on my habit I pulled out my diary and began to describe the day's happenings. '.... Still wishing I had something to do with my life. Sincerely, Sang Me Zhao.' The final sentence read. Tucking my diary back under the lose floorboard beneath my desk I caught site of something else that had found it's way down there. "What the hell?" I wondered, picking it up, "How did you get down here." Picking up the Death card I looked over it suspiciously and placed it on my desk to deal with is some other time . . .

**

and there u have it, the first step into madness . . .

fellow authors you know how great it is to get a nice review, so spread the joy ^ ^


	2. Past

Here we have the next chapter:   
I actually liked this one, its starting to explain some things although you wont notice them if you don't know what your looking for ^ ^;  
My favorite HP character is in this chap so that makes it even better XD  
Enjoy !  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (if I did I would get rid of all Draco's fangirls and keep him all to myself ^ ^) 

**

Chapter 2

To a normal person these findings would have been deemed unexplainable, but not to me. I had started using the text in an old dark magic book I had found when I was young. A tall, bleach blond with rather long hair for a man had traded it for my silver hand held mirror. I had never really given thought to it before though. One day when I was on an outing with my grandmother we wandered into an eerie inn. There were barely any people there, but those few where enough to catch my attention. They wore robes and hats with a tall center that fell to one side. One of the ladies, at least in her late 40, bearing a long, silver robe that glinted even though there was no light came up to me. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore spectacles before her rather stern eyes. "Where's your mummy little one?" the woman wondered. I was unable to respond. I had never seen anyone wearing such robes, nor would I ever again. After I had regained my senses I looked around. 

My granny had disappeared and the protected feeling she gave me was replaced by panic. "I – I don't know!" I cried, facing the woman again. "Well dear, come with me then, I'll help you find her." She explained. Even then I new better than to trust strangers, but there was something about her, a feel of authority accompanied by a warm heart. We went through the back door of the inn. In front of me was a tall, seemingly never ending wall. "She's not here." I commented. "Shush child, come with me." The woman repeated. She tapped a few bricks in what seemed to be a random order. Out of no where a loud noise appeared. The kind of sound that came from bricks scraping apart from each other. When I focused my attention on the wall again, it was gone. Confused I looked up at the lady. "Don't worry dear, we'll find your mummy, now, what's your name?" she kindly asked. "San," I told her simply. She nodded and began to walk again, holding my hand. After a few minutes she steered me over to a tall, official looking man. "Good afternoon Topa, how are you?" she inquired. "Why, hello Minerva, good to see you. Just keeping order as always. What brings you to me?" he replied. 

"Have there been any complaints or searches yet?" she continued, "This little girl here was lost over in the Leaky Cauldron." "Well, there was one lady, rather short, old woman who came by looking for her granddaughter. She was looking for a girl named Sang Me." He told them. "That's me!" I exclaimed enthusiastically. "That's great." The man replied. He pulled out a short, polished stick and began to wave it around. A second later a loud scream echoed through the streets. There she was, my grandma, sitting on a flying broom, heading straight towards us. „Nanna!" I shouted, throwing out my arms. The broom came to a dead stop and then gently reached the ground. "Oh dear, I'm afraid I haven't done that in so long a time I've completely lost my touch." The old lady explained, dismounting the broom. "Hi dear, I'm sorry about that, my mind doesn't function as well as it used to." She said scooping me up, "I'm sorry for causing you any trouble." "That's what I'm here for." The man said. The kind lady had already left. 

"Let's go have a look at some stuff, how does that sound sweetie?" she inquired. I nodded cheerfully. We headed towards a different part of the street. I looked up to see the sign, but it was faded and hard to recognize, something with a B or K. It was darker here and definitely less crowded. My grandmother was, aside from me, also holding a basket full of what looked like old, rusty junk. She took a quick turn and went into a shop with me. Putting me down she patted my head and told me to go look around. I didn't exactly want to leave her again, but back then adventure meant something to me. I reached into her basket and pulled out a bright silver mirror with a crack at the side. When I looked in I saw a short brown hared girl much like myself. Except this girl was wearing a black robe and holding a broom. Behind her where too shadows. One was so bright I couldn't really see it and the other was so dark that the features where hard to make out. All of a sudden the picture blurred and I saw the plain old reflection of myself. Except ... I jumped as all of a sudden a tall, white-blond man smirked down at me. 

"You should be careful little girl, you might get lost." He said, in a cold, proud voice. "I was lost." I told him honestly. "I'm sure you where." The man replied, kneeling down before me. I backed off a little, what I felt for that nice lady was the exact opposite of what I felt from this man. He continued to sport his grin. "I have a deal for you little girl." He whispered, "I'll give you this beautiful, amazing book for your ugly mirror." I looked down at the book he was presenting to me. It was leather bound with dark black markings on the front. "I can't read." I told him bluntly. "No need, here, let me show you." The man opened the book, to a blank page, actually, come to think of it; they were all blank pages, "Now put your hand here and close your eyes." Sudden warmth filled me as I slowly opened my eyes. A beautiful red silk dress replaced the skirt and blouse I was wearing before. „Wow!" I exclaimed, reaching for the book. He took out a stick like the man named Topa had, waved it, and the dress disappeared. I was back in my former clothes but I still wanted the book. "Give me that mirror first." He commanded.

It sure was a hard decision for me back then. The book was amazing but I loved the things I saw in that mirror. Yet like all decisions a choice was made. I picked up the mirror to hand it over but quickly I let go of it and it crashed to the floor. The handle had suddenly become too hot to bear. A shard fell into my hand. Before I could take it out it began to melt, sink into my palm, then the wound healed and it completely disappeared. "Ah, clumsy child, here." He thrust the book at me and retrieved the mirror. Then he got up and turned on his heals to leave. "Draco." He called out, "Come, we're going." Out of the shadows a boy my age raced towards the man. He had the same color hair but wasn't quit as cynical looking. „Coming!" he replied and raced towards his dad. The boy reached for the man's hand, but the man pulled back and walked outside. I felt sorry for that boy, but there wasn't exactly anything I could do about it. I began looking through the book, but didn't find anything; they were all just blank pages. Back then I didn't know how to look properly though. 

Nowadays I understand it better then my native language sometimes. I looked outside again to see that the hail had stopped. I went over to my bed and flung myself onto it. Not even bothering to pull the sheets over me I relaxed my body and immediately after fell asleep. Had I been a little more aware I would have noticed that the window was open again and that a curious creature that wasn't seen in this area often swooped in. After it dropped a letter onto the floor it did a sharp turn and left again. Silently the window slid shut, waiting for just another boring day to start . . .        

**

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	3. Future

Yesh ! nxt one done ! *does victory dance* mwahahahah ! Anyways, short author scribble today. Jus enjoy reading. I'm gonna skip the disclaimed tho (I think u ppl noe that HP doesn't belong to me) 

**

Chapter 3

            The early morning rays crept in through the window to wake me. The sky had cleared up while the only sight hinting that it rained were pearls of water everywhere. It was a tranquil day to say the least. I awoke with a start to the awful racket of an engine blaring. I stretched quickly and let a muffled yawn escape before getting up and heading to my window. If I hadn't known better the vehicle outside was the exact image of an armed forces modified city hummer. It's engine continued roaring as I walked downstairs to satisfy my curiosity. Yet even the slightest glance settled my hunger for knowledge, it was even one of those rare moments where I was speechless. In front of me stood a tall, black hared oriental man, full clad in the strict military uniform. His hands were tucked away in his pockets and over his shoulder hung an olive dufflebag. All those years of contempt stopped me from crying out. All I could do was continue down the stairs until I stood right in front of him. He looked down at me with his deep dark eyes. Shadows hung under them and he looked extremely tired. "San," he whispered. I lifted my head to meet his gaze, but I didn't return his happiness. "You," I told him. "What are you doing here?" I continued. He looked a bit confused. "San, I'm back, I've missed you all too much. I couldn't take it there anymore, so I returned." He explained. "Go back," I retorted, "I don't want you here! Go back and don't think you can just return anytime you feel like it!" 

I ran back upstairs and shut the door as my mother came by. I plugged in my music and jacked up the volume until it outrang the noise of the vehicle. Then I sat down on the floor and began to rock back and forth in a state of confusion and shock. I reached over to my closet and picked up my book, picked through a few pages until I found the one I most commonly indulged in. Just as the memories began I noticed something out of place. Funny that I hadn't seen it before. It was letter with my name on it, written in some cursive writing. I let out a long deep breath to ease my frustration and ripped open the side. I pulled out two pieces of odd paper and began to read it. 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore 

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

I stared at the letter in disbelief for a few moments, then read on.

Dear Ms. Zhao,

            We are please to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

            Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

            And so it went on...

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"What a load of bullshit," I exclaimed, ripping the letter up before giving any second thought to it. I disregarded it as the remainder fell to the floor and then lay down onto my bed. These were the sort of situations I had problems handling. The kind of moments where emotions took over any other thought. One of those times when you had next to no control over yourself. It was kind of like that time when I was small, in the odd shop where the bleach blond boy was rejected from his father's love. It sent such a wave of compassion over me that I had to resist going up and comforting the boy. Funny that a memory like that reached my conscious mind on a day like this. I was the one who needed compassion, someone to turn to. All in all I just needed a change. I lay there motionless, aware of any noise around me. Someone was coming up the stairs and they sounded quite exhausted. 

The door began to open as my father walked in. He looked sad, ashamed even as he walked over to me. "Sang Me, I'm sorry." He began. I knew he was going to come up with more excuses, so I zoned out. I nodded every time it seemed necessary but paid no attention to him. Eventually he pulled out his credit card. "Let's get you something really nice for the next school year." He said, waving the key to more time at private school before my face. I nodded again and turned away. Did he honestly think he could make me accept him by bribing me? That might have worked with someone who has no other purpose in life, but money is not everything to me. I closed my eyes and before I new it sleep washed over me, brought on by all the stress of today. 

It wasn't much of a rest though. I kept tossing and turning without a reason, it was just an instinct. Then, early the next day, I awoke fully to the sound of and unwanted life form in my room. I opened my eyes carefully to see what it was. Not quit comprehending I blinked a few more times. At the edge of my bed (unless my sanity had totally left me) stood and owl, talons digging into the smooth wood. In its beak it carried a letter. Carefully I crawled over and extracted the letter. It was identical to the last one I had gotten, right down to the cursive lettering. After shooting another glance to the patient owl I got up and went downstairs. I pulled out a small custard cup filled it with water and carefully carried it back up. I placed it on my desk and beckoned the creature over with a gesture of my hand. Cautiously it nipped at the water. I returned to my bed and opened my mail. It was one and the same as the one I had received before. This time I didn't immediately rip it up though. I poured over it again and again and actually gave consideration to the possibility of such a school. If it was possible for me to make things happen with the simple aid of a book, theoretically there should be a school for it. A school for freaks, since they have schools for everything else, besides, I had nothing to lose. I went over to my desk again and started rummaging through the drawers for a pen and paper. After I had found the aforementioned I began to write  
  


_Dear Madam MacGonagall,  
I have recently received a letter inviting me to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I haven't heard anything about this school so I am a little skeptical of its existence. Where would it be located and how could I get there? I have also read over the list of supplies and am curious to know where I can find cauldrons or wands.  Then there is the problem of payment. I am not in the proper situation to be able to afford boarding school. If you can find the time to respond I would greatly appreciate some answers.   
Sincerely,  
Sang Me Zhao _罪过__

I read over it once more to make sure my spelling was all right. (English has never been my best subject even though its my native language. I might be partially Asian but my father never took the time to teach me) Whoever was going to get this letter would get a kick out of how gullible I am. I looked over the envelope only to find that the sender hadn't left a returning address. This was quite a bit of a throwback since my curiosity had a strong hold on me and I wanted to know more about this school. Realization dawned in me as I looked over to the owl. The bird had to get home so why not give it the letter? _"Gods," _I thought, _"I'm turning into a freaking hypocrite. I shouldn't go along with cheap jokes like this," Yet something inside me urged me to go on. I rolled up the paper and tied it to the leg of the creature with some twine. I saw it over to the window and let it out. With a loud whoosh it flew off into the sky. Now all I could do was wait . . .      _

**

r & r and there will be more      


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